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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051122">I can get by on my own</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_the_perseids/pseuds/under_the_perseids'>under_the_perseids</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Before We Get Started, Does Anyone Want to Get Out? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feels, Implied Bottom Bucky Barnes, Implied Top Steve Rogers, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Rimming, Top Bucky Barnes, all the feels, bucky is so in love with steve, canon character death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:28:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_the_perseids/pseuds/under_the_perseids</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah Rogers tells Steve that she has TB and that she knows about him and Bucky.  Bucky takes care of Steve when they receive Sarah's last letter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Before We Get Started, Does Anyone Want to Get Out? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I can get by on my own</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place about a year after part 1.  Not necessary to read part 1, but it would help to understand Steve and Bucky's relationship.  </p>
<p>I've added some Irish phrases, courtesy of Google translate and some other websites.  I apologize if they are inaccurate.<br/>mo chroí-my heart<br/>Go raibh maith agat-thank you<br/>Tá mo chroí istigh ionat-my heart is in you<br/>Tá mé i ngrá leat freisin-I love you, too<br/>a rúnsearc-secret love<br/>Mo chroí is gaire-my dearest heart<br/>a stór-my treasure (used from a parent to a child)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Steven, I need to talk to you,” Sarah called out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Ma, in a minute,” Steve was currently working on a rendering of Bucky which had the brunette reading in the chair by the window, sunlight illuminating the gentle smile on his face.  The two of them had shared a peaceful summer afternoon together while Steve’s ma was at work, and Steve had happened to glance up and saw the serene expression cross Bucky’s face.  Steve smiled at the memory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steven, now please.”  Steve looked up at that.  His ma sounded oddly weary.  He set his drawing and pencil on his bedside table and walked into the main living space of their tiny apartment.  His ma was seated at the kitchen table, hands around a steaming cup of tea, fingers tapping nervously against the cup.  That was unusual.  Sarah Rogers was a force of nature and never allowed herself to show any trace of uncertainty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma?  What is it?”  Steve asked carefully as he joined her at the little table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His ma looked at him, her love radiating out towards him, but there was also a deep underlying sadness.  She was only 36, but whatever was on her mind aged her another decade.  “Steven, I went to see the doctor.  I--”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In all of Steve’s 18 years, he had never once seen his mother falter or be unsure.  “Ma, you’re scaring me,” he whispered.  He reached across the table to hold her hand.  “Please tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked down at their clasped hands, squeezed his, and barely audibly said, “I have TB, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo chroí</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>TB?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Steve was in a freefall.  His heart was pounding, and his hands became slick with sweat.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, this can’t be happening.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  But the signs had been there, and Steve had just blatantly ignored them.  The cough she tried to hide from him, the weightloss she tried to pass off as just being overworked, the dark circles under eyes from sleepless nights.  And she worked in the goddamn TB ward at the hospital.  She had taken that on to help pay for Steve’s art school tuition.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steven?” her voice brought him back to the present.  “The doctor has booked me a room at the TB sanatorium in New Jersey.  I take the train there this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This afternoon!”  Steve’s shock turned into bitter outrage.  “Ma, you can’t go so soon!  That’s no time at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo chroí</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I know, but I was lucky to be able to come home first to tell you.  For most patients, they send them there immediately.  We are very fortunate to have this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Ma…”  Tears filled Steve’s eyes, but he refused to let them fall.  He needed to be strong for his mother.  She had spent more time than most parents taking care of a sick child; he could take care of her now.  He blinked back his tears and straightening up as much as he could, asked, “What do we need to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gratitude filled his mother’s face and she gave him a weak smile.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go raibh maith agat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steven.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tá mo chroí istigh ionat</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  His mother’s lilting Irish brought him back to all the times she was at his bedside, wiping at his clammy forehead.  She rarely spoke to him in her native tongue but it was usually when he was sick.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tá mé i ngrá leat freisin</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ma.  So, what do we need to do?”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Steve helped his ma pack her bag, and even though he knew most, she still went through everything needed for the apartment.  He kept grumbling under his breath, “Yeah, Ma, I know.  I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steven, you’re not as quiet as you might think, you know,” his ma admonished with humor coloring her tone.  “I am just making sure you know all that you need to.  I know you’re already aware of most of this, but…” her tone softened.  “But I may not be coming back.  I need to know that you’re prepared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve intellectually knew that his mother probably would not survive her illness, but his heart?  His heart was screaming at her for saying that.  “Ma, don’t say that.  You could get better.  How many times have you had a priest come say the last rites for me?  And I’m still here,” his voice cracked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo chroí</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sarah said tenderly.  “You’re the miracle in this family.  You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> miracle.  And we can’t be so selfish to expect God to bless us in such a fashion again.  He allowed me to be your mother, and that is the greatest miracle I could have ever asked for.”  She reached out a pale hand to his face, and said, “I have only ever wanted you to be happy and healthy, and unfortunately, we haven’t always been so lucky with the latter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma…” Steve couldn’t hold back the tears this time.  He wrapped his arms around his ma’s thin frame and tucked his face into her neck.  Her arms quickly engulfed him and held him as she had when he was a child.  They stood like that for quite some time, Steve trying to get years worth of his mother’s hugs in a mere handful of minutes.  He didn’t want to let go, to let her go, but staying in the city was a sure death sentence for TB.  At least this way, his ma would have a chance to breathe fresh air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stepping back to look his ma in the eyes, Steve said, “What am I going to do without you?  You’re all I got.”  Steve didn’t normally express emotions that made him vulnerable, but he figured this was the time to be open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Steven, but sometimes you can be really dense,” his ma said, exasperation evident in her voice and even posture.  His jaw dropped.  He was trying to have a truly heartfelt moment, and his ma was calling him dense?!  “I am not all you ‘got’ Steven Grant Rogers.  You have Bucky.  He’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>a rúnsearc</span>
  </em>
  <span>, your secret love, your beloved.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha...what do you mean?”  He and Bucky had been overly cautious to make sure no one knew that they were together.  But somehow his mother knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have known Bucky Barnes was your </span>
  <em>
    <span>a rúnsearc</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the first time you brought him home.  You were never able to make friends easily, and here you two were, acting like you had known each other from birth, instead of just a few hours.”  She smiled sweetly at Steve.  “And I have been privileged to watch your friendship grow and develop.  You may think you have been prudent not showing the true nature of your relationship, but I know you and I know Bucky.  And I could tell when things changed between you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was staggered.  Not only did his ma know about him and Bucky, she seemed positively delighted about it.  “You...you’re not upset?” he asked tentatively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mo chroí.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  I’m quite grateful to know that you have someone to share your life with.  I have been abundantly blessed with having you two as sons.  I do fear for the both of you, however.”  Her face and tone turned serious.  “I need you to promise me that you’ll continue to be mindful.  Don’t do anything that could land you in jail, or worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are careful, Ma.  I promise.”  He leaned into his mother for another hug.  “Thank you for understanding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, darling.”  And then bringing back her childhood promises to him, his ma whispered gently in his ear, “I will love you until all life on earth has passed away, and even then, I will love you.  I will love you until the seas have dried up, and even then, I will love you.  I will love you until the sun fades from existence, and even then, I will love you.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Steve sat despondently at the kitchen table.  He had just gotten back from walking his mother to the train station, and he didn’t know if he would ever get to see her again.  The apartment even felt different.  Like it was holding its breath, waiting for Sarah Rogers to walk in, bringing back life and joy.  Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting at the table, when a knock on the door shifted him out of his abstractions.  He walked slowly to the door, considering not answering, but another knock came.  When he opened the door, Bucky’s smile quickly fell into a frown at Steve’s expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked apprehensively as he stepped into the apartment.  Steve couldn’t say anything, he just fell into Bucky’s arms.  “Sweetheart, you’re scaring me.  What’s going on?”  Steve just clutched tightly onto Bucky’s shirt and buried his face into the other man’s chest.  Being in the safety of Bucky’s arms allowed all his fears to bubble to the surface.  Steve could feel Bucky pull him in even closer and infuse the hug with love.  “It’s okay.  Tell me when you’re ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally feeling like he could take a breath, Steve tilted his head back to look Bucky in the eyes.  “It’s my ma, Buck,” he rasped out.  “She’s got TB and left this afternoon for a sanatorium in Jersey.  I don’t know if I’m ever going to see her again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky had stiffened at Steve’s pronouncement, but quickly said, “Oh, Stevie, I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I wish I had been here earlier.  What do you need?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You.  Right now, just you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, sweetheart, let’s go sit on the couch, alright?”  Bucky led the two of them to the old couch without ever letting go of Steve.  He maneuvered them so that Steve was curled into his side.  Steve didn’t like to admit it, but he always felt so anchored in Bucky’s arms.  And right now, he needed that solidity.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s heart was breaking for his best guy.  Why did this have to happen to his Stevie?  He had already been given such crap luck in his life, and now he might not ever see his ma again.  She was the only family Steve had.  And here Bucky was with both his parents still living, three sisters, and other relatives back in Indiana.  It just wasn’t fair.  But Bucky just held onto Steve, letting him take his time, glad he could at least be there for the blonde.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buck?” He felt more than heard Steve ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She knew about us,” Steve said faintly.  Bucky was surprised.  They had been so vigilant to not give away the true nature of their relationship when others were around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?  We were awfully discreet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked up at him and smiled.  “That’s what I thought, too, but she said that she knew me and she knew you and could tell when things changed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>I guess that makes sense</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bucky thought.  Steve was Sarah’s only child, so she knew him inside out.  Bucky’s ma probably didn’t notice because their house was so full of activity that any subtle changes were difficult to detect.  “Uh, what else did your ma say?  Was she upset?” he asked hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite the opposite, in fact,” Steve grinned.  “She said that you were my </span>
  <em>
    <span>a rúnsearc</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my secret love, and she had known since the first time she met you.  She also considers you as a son and is grateful that you’re in my life.”  Steve turned pensive and said in a softer voice, “I’m grateful that you’re in my life, too.  I don’t think I say that enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky thought his heart was going to burst.  Steve rarely stated his affections so openly; he showed his love for Bucky mainly through his art.  Bucky, on the other hand, had to refrain from constantly showering Steve with affection.  Instead, he used endearments as often as Steve would allow.  “Me, too, Stevie.  I’m grateful that you’re in my life.  I’m with ya ‘til the end of the line, punk.”  He bent his head to kiss Steve’s forehead and then leaned back.  “Your ma really said that I was your secret love?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.  I mean, that’s the literal meaning of </span>
  <em>
    <span>a rúnsearc</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but most people use it to mean beloved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like that.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>A rúnsearc</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  I always like when your ma speaks in Irish.”  Bucky let out a laugh.  “I mean, I usually hear it when she’s mad at you, like English just doesn’t have enough of the right words.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve turned a lovely shade of pink at that and ducked his head.  “Shut it, jerk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah sweetheart, you know I’m just teasin’ ya,” Bucky said fondly, giving Steve a squeeze.  “But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> true, and ya know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”  Steve settled against Bucky and sighed.  “I already miss her, Buck, and I just saw her a few hours ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry you had to see her off by yourself.  I woulda been here if I’da known.”  There was no way he could have known since he had been at work; even so, he really wished he could have been there for Steve sooner.  He can’t imagine coming back to the empty apartment all by himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Buck.  You didn’t know.  But you’re here now.”  Steve tucked his head into Bucky’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around his torso.  They stayed that way for quite some time, just sitting in silence together, not needing any words.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span> A few weeks later, they were eating dinner at Steve’s apartment, and Bucky put out there, “Hey Stevie, whatcha think about me moving in here?  My place is feeling pretty crowded with the girls getting older and needing more space.  It would help my folks out, and I’m here most of the time anyway.”  He kept his face downcast, like he was self-conscious about asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve put his fork down and thought about it.  He asked suspiciously, “You’re not asking because you think I need help, are you?  ‘Cause I can get by on my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that.  Nah, like I said, it’s getting rather crowded at my place.  The girls are all sharing a room, and I got one to myself.  It’s not fair to them,” Bucky explained and looked up at Steve.  “And I’d really like to live with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Warmth flooded Steve’s body.  Bucky was painfully obvious with his affection towards Steve, but it never failed to lift his spirit when Bucky said such things, even after over a year together romantically.  “Aww, Buck.  Why d’you wanna live with me?” Steve teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevermind, you asshole.  I take it all back,” Bucky backtracked gruffly, returning to his plate of food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t take it back.  You already said you wanted to live with me.  Is it because of my charming personality?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky snorted.  “Hardly, punk.  You’re a pain in my ass.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And don’t I know it,” he winked at Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, Rogers.  The mouth on you!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Steve knew Bucky wasn’t actually scandalized.  “I’d like to have my mouth on you, Barnes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, is that so?” Bucky suddenly resembled a panther stalking its prey.  “And what part of my body would you like to put your mouth on, sugar?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take me to bed and let’s find out.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>In the three months since Sarah Rogers had entered the sanatorium, she and Steve exchanged letters on a weekly basis.  Steve enjoyed being able to finally tell her about his and Bucky’s relationship (obviously not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the details.  She may be open-minded, but she was still his mother), but he had to edit the letters to make it seem that he had a girlfriend named Becky, in case someone else found the correspondence.  When Steve asked his ma about Bucky moving in, she was more than willing to give her blessing, saying that she didn’t like the idea of Steve being alone in the apartment.  A few days later, Bucky brought over his belongings, which consisted mostly of clothes, a few treasured books, drawings from Steve, and little else.  It felt like home again to Steve.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One dreary October day, they were holed up in the apartment listening to the radio, with Steve drawing his favorite muse.  “Buck, tilt your chin to the left a little,” Steve directed.  Bucky complied without hesitation.  “Thanks, the lighting is better that way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie, how many times have you drawn me?  Aren’t ya tired of my ugly mug by now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t talk,” admonished Steve.  “And I don’t think I could ever be tired of your face.  It’s my favorite one.”  Bucky scoffed.  It was true, though.  Steve had a never-ending fascination with Bucky’s face: the dimple in his chin, the way his nose scrunched when he thought something was particularly funny, and his expressive eyes that were always so full of love.  Steve had dreams about just Bucky’s eyes and the multitude of facets they contained.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette interrupted his preoccupations, “That’s just because you don’t get to see your own face, sweetheart.  It’s by far my favorite face in the room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very funny, Buck.  Now seriously, quit talking while I’m doing this.  You can talk in just a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve loved afternoons like this.  They didn’t get to enjoy them that often as Bucky worked down at the docks most days, while Steve still went to art school, worked at the library, and picked up the odd commission here and there.  It was very </span>
  <em>
    <span>domestic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Steve found himself enjoying it to no end.  He could just picture their future continuing on in a similar fashion.  Luckily, they lived in a part of Brooklyn that didn’t ask too many questions if you weren’t too obvious.  They still went out on double dates, to keep up appearances, but Steve was much more willing to go knowing that Bucky wasn’t actually interested in any of the girls.  It was a fairly ideal life at the moment, considering the circumstances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Steve was putting the final touches on his drawing, Bucky went down to pick up the mail.  As he came back into the apartment, Steve called out, “What do you think about making your ma’s potato soup for supper tonight, Buck?”  Bucky didn’t reply, but with an ashen face held out a letter towards Steve.  “Bucky?  What is it?”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Bucky could tell from Sarah’s handwriting on the envelope that something was very wrong.  Her typically elegant, loopy script was ragged and pained.  Sarah would have never allowed anyone to see her handwriting like that unless she had no choice.  He held out the letter to Steve, who was looking up at him anxiously.  “Stevie, it’s from your ma.  I think something’s wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leapt off the couch and snatched the letter from Bucky’s hand.  “Whatcha mean?”  He tore open the envelope, and Bucky watched his eyes rapidly scan the letter.  Luckily, the couch was right behind Steve because his legs gave out from under him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, what’d she say?” Bucky asked, trepidation growing.  Steve handed him the letter, and he sat down next to the blonde.  He began to read: </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mo chroí is gaire</span>
  <em>
    <span> (and Bucky, if you are reading this), I am afraid to say that I will not be long for this world.  The illness has well and truly taken a hold of me.  I am coughing up blood more often than not, and my loss of appetite has wasted my body away.  I know you don’t like to hear such things, Steven, but it needs to be said.  The priest has been called for last rites.  I long to see your face one last time, but I do not want you to see me in this fashion.  You will be happier for it, in the end.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Steven, </span>
  </em>
  <span>tá mo chroí istigh ionat</span>
  <em>
    <span>.  Never forget that.  You are my miracle, my life, my never-ending source of joy.  You have made me happier than I could have ever predicted, and I am so proud of the man you are.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bucky, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a stór</span>
  <em>
    <span>, I thank God every moment for the day you walked into my Steven’s life.  You have been a second son to me all these years, albeit less mullish and irascible.  Thank you for being you, James Buchanan Barnes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you both and will continue to do so even after my last breath.  Take care of one another, for you have found your heart’s companion in the other. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky folded the letter up and handed it back to Steve.  He felt completely hollow.  Sarah was dying.  And they couldn’t go see her.  He looked to Steve.  “Steve?  What’s in your head, sweetheart?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looked blankly back.  Bucky couldn’t see any of the normal light in his eyes; it was if he had been replaced by an automaton.  He stiffly got up from the couch and went to their bedroom.  Bucky sat for a moment contemplating going after Steve or not, but Sarah’s words bounced around his head: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Take care of one another.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  He got up and found Steve on their bed wrapped up in his mother’s quilt, with just his eyes and nose peeking out.  Bucky curled up behind the smaller man and held him close.  “Stevie, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.  I’m here.  I’m here.  I’m here,” he intoned as tears pricked his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laid like that for quite some time, with Steve not saying a word or even making a noise.  Bucky silently let his tears fall, some for Sarah, but mostly on Steve’s behalf.  He had no clue how Steve was feeling at the moment.  How could he?  He still had his whole, boisterous family.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Steve turned to Bucky, eyes red-rimmed, but dry.  Bucky reached a hand up and smoothed back some of Steve’s hair from his face.  “Sweetheart, can you tell me what you’re feeling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M’not feeling much of anything,” Steve mumbled.  “Don’t know what to think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here for you if you need, or I can go elsewhere, if that’s what you need.”  Bucky didn’t want to leave, but if that’s what Steve wanted, he would go.  Steve shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want you here.  Need you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky sighed in relief.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank god</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He didn’t want to leave Steve to have hopelessness take root.  “Ok, I’m here.  Do you need me to do anything?”  Whatever Steve needed or wanted, Steve would get.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stared boldly at Bucky, almost daring him to protest.  “I want you to make me feel.  I want you to make me forget.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That, Bucky could do.  He lowered his voice and said in a husky tone, “Yeah, sugar?  How do you want me to make you feel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve gave a shiver and whispered, “I want you to make me feel good.  I want to feel you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning over the quilt-wrapped body next to him, Bucky said, “Like this?” and proceeded to place slow kisses along Steve’s forehead down to his jaw.  Steve might have wanted heated ferocity, but Bucky was determined to make him feel his love, in every way possible.  He continued to sprinkle kisses across Steve’s face, moving slowly and taking his time on each kiss.  Soon, Steve was wiggling beneath him, trying to work his way out of the quilt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buck, let me up.  I want to touch you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet, sugar.  You said you wanted me to make you feel good.  And I plan on taking my time doing that.”  Surprisingly, Steve yielded, and let Bucky continue to dote on him, much to Bucky’s delight.  It was rare that Steve let Bucky spoil him in that kind of fashion; he had such a chip on his shoulder about proving his capability that he almost always took charge when they were in bed together.  And Bucky was usually more than willing to let Steve do so.  Since he was four, he had been taking care of one younger sister or another, and it was nice to be the one pampered every once and awhile.  But tonight was all about Steve and making sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> needs were met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky slowly unwrapped Steve from the quilt, like unwrapping a prized piece of chocolate.  His intent was to cover every inch of Steve’s pale Irish skin in kisses.  He unbuttoned Steve’s shirt as he traced his way down Steve’s long neck, and when he got to the blonde’s nipple, Steve gasped and arched his back.  Bucky smirked and made his way over to the other nipple, hoping for the same reaction.  Steve didn’t gasp this time, but his hips bucked up a fraction.  Trying to get more of a response, Bucky flattened his tongue against the hard nub, licked up and around, and then lightly bit down.  That got Bucky what he wanted to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah...oh, oh Buck,” Steve stuttered.  Bucky could feel Steve’s breath become more labored.  He saw Steve’s fingers clench the sheets as he worked further down the lithe body.  Steve’s skin was so smooth under Bucky’s lips; he could do this all day and not get tired.  Bucky added in some kitten licks, resulting in goose bumps erupting across Steve’s stomach.  Steve’s arousal was evident as Bucky moved to undo his belt and pants.  The other man’s long, hard cock sprung free as Bucky worked his pants off completely.  Starting at Steve’s foot, Bucky resumed his mission to kiss Steve everywhere.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve writhed on the bed, demanding, “C’mon, Buck.  Hurry up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky raised an eyebrow.  “Hurry what up?  You don’t even know what I have planned.  Lay your pretty impatient head back, and let me keep on lovin’ on you.”  Steve huffed, but he did as he was told.  Bucky trailed open-mouthed kisses up the inside of Steve’s thigh, occasionally biting along the way.  He bypassed Steve’s leaking cock in favor of sucking a bruise onto his hip.  He licked at it to soothe, and finally, made his way to Steve’s erection.  No matter how many times they had done this, Bucky was always amazed by the sight of Steve’s cock.  It was slightly longer than his own, but slightly less thick around.  And Bucky loved it.  He loved it in his hand, his mouth, his body.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He licked up the length in front of him, sending Steve shuddering.  He gripped the base, swirled his tongue around the head, and then let it sit heavy and thick in his mouth.  Steve hoarsely whispered out, “Yes, Buck.  Baby, that feels so good.”  Even with a cock in his mouth, Bucky smiled; Steve must have been fairly riled up if he was already calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He swallowed around Steve, making Steve jerk his hips up.  Bucky groaned but didn’t pull off.  He didn’t want Steve coming yet, but he wasn’t done with having Steve in his mouth.  Except, “Bucky, please, come up here.  I need to kiss you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  How could he refuse a request like that?  He slowly pulled off, giving the tip of Steve’s cock a little kiss and licking up any spit or precome that remained.  Bucky crawled up Steve’s body, trailing kisses as he went.  He reached Steve’s face and got lost in the thin blue irises.  Brushing a finger across his forehead and down his cheek, Bucky whispered, “I love you, Stevie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve seemed just as lost in Bucky’s eyes, but managed to reply softly, “I love you, too, Buck.”  And using the command that started their relationship, Steve said simply, “Kiss me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, he did.  Bucky still got butterflies when he kissed Steve.  They were easily able to transmit what they were feeling through their kisses, and Bucky knew he never wanted to kiss another soul.  With this kiss, Bucky was pouring all his love and caring into it.  He wanted Steve to know just how important he was.  How loved.  How not alone he was in this world.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve parted his lips, and Bucky dove right in, heated tongues caressing, neither fighting for dominance.  Steve’s fingers were twisted tight in Bucky’s hair, not pulling, but anchoring himself.  The brunette always got a rush when Steve’s hands were in his hair.  He ground his hips down into Steve’s.  The blonde’s gasp reminded him that he was still fully clothed while Steve was not.  He pulled back just enough to say, “Gimme a sec, sweetheart.  Gotta take my clothes off.”  Steve whined, but sat up on his elbows and kept his eyes trained on Bucky, which sent a thrill through Bucky.  He got off the bed and swiftly dropped his clothes to the floor.  Steve’s eyes trailed to Bucky’s cock, which twitched when Steve bit his lip.  “Like what you see, sugar?” Bucky said, seductively popping a hip.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I do,”  Steve in a husky voice.  “Stop posing.  I want a closer look.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky raised an eyebrow, but went back to Steve.  Placing his hands on either side of Steve’s head with their foreheads touching, Bucky said, “Is this close enough for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not quite.”  Steve wrapped his legs around Bucky’s hips, both of them groaning with need as their cocks touched.  “I want you in me, Buck.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?  You sure, sugar?” Bucky asked, slightly surprised.  Steve rarely wanted to bottom, and Bucky didn’t care one way or the other.  He liked feeling Steve inside of him, feeling the hot length in his core.  Feeling full.  But he also liked filling Steve up, making his lover come on his cock.  So if Steve wanted that, he was more than willing to satisfy.  “Do you want me to prep you or do you want me to watch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s lips.  Bucky pressed in for a chaste kiss, lingering against the smoothness, Steve putting a hand around the back of his neck.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky pulled back slightly, and said, “Okay, sweetheart.  You just enjoy yourself.”  He worked his way down Steve’s body, giving the cock in front of him a slow lick while lifting Steve’s thighs over his shoulders.  He dragged his tongue down, swirling around the furled muscle making Steve gasp.  Bucky slowly teased the blonde, alternating between licking long stripes and using the tip of his tongue to trace around Steve’s hole.  When his tongue started demanding entrance, he had to hold Steve’s hips in place.  The other man was squirming so much that Bucky was sure Steve didn’t even realize it.  And the sounds he was making!  They just made him double his effort.  Bucky loved opening Steve up on his tongue, amazed that he got to be the one that Steve allowed in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Above him Steve was panting, with moans intermittently escaping.  Bucky pulled back, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.  “Stevie, can you reach the slick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unngh...yeah,” came the breathless reply.  Steve extended a loose-limbed arm to the bedside table and clumsily found the tin.  “Here,” he said, handing the tin to Bucky.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, sweetheart.”  Bucky gently lifted one of Steve’s legs off his shoulder and set it down next to him.  Then he rose to a kneeling position, keeping the other leg on his shoulder.  He kissed and bit the inside of Steve’s knee while he got his fingers full of slick, all the while maintaining eye contact with his lover.  Steve was loose enough to easily accept one finger, which Bucky slid in and out a few times before adding another finger.  It was tight, but Bucky could see as Steve’s pupils dilated in desire to the point where he could hardly see any of the blue.  He scissored his fingers and then added a third.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck!” came Steve’s response.  “I’m ready, Buck.  Need you in me now!”  Bucky pumped his hand a few more times before withdrawing his fingers from Steve’s hole, the muscle twitching at the absence.  He quickly slicked up his own leaking cock, which he had, up to now, ignored in favor of pleasuring Steve.  He couldn’t help a groan as he grasped himself and lined up to Steve’s hole.  Both men let out deep moans as Bucky slowly entered Steve.  Steve pulled his knees up to his chest and threw his head back onto the pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel so good, sugar.  So tight,” Bucky managed to get out.  “Fuck, that’s good.”  He pressed into Steve steadily until his hips met flesh.  He paused a moment and rested his forehead against Steve’s chest.  “Fuck, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, Buck, move,” Steve whined.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, Stevie, if I move now, the show’s gonna be over before it gets started.  Let me catch my breath, why don’tcha?”  God, Steve could be pushy.  “Remember, sweetheart, normally I don’t have to worry about coming too soon.”  And even if he did, Steve could usually get him to come a second time.  But Bucky wanted to take his time tonight and take care of Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.  Fi--” Steve shut up as Bucky leaned in for a kiss.  It was deep and urgent but not desperate.  Steve’s tongue circled Bucky’s and urged him along.  Soon, Bucky was sure he was calm enough to not shoot off after two seconds.  Not wanting this to be rushed or frenzied, he slowly pulled out a little bit and pushed gently back in.  Bucky didn’t want to just fuck Steve, he wanted to make love to him, as cheesy as that sounded to him.  He kept at the measured pace while still keeping his lips to Steve’s.  Below him, Steve tried to push the pace along, but Bucky wasn’t having it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, you’re not driving tonight.  Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”  Bucky smirked as he saw Steve’s frustration, but smiled when the blonde begrudgingly acquiesced.  “Thank you, sugar.”  Bucky placed a quick kiss on Steve’s cheek.  He loved this man so much.  Steve was all fire and wrath, but Bucky got to be his calming waters and wasn’t that just incredible.  He would never know how he got so lucky the day he met Steve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky picked up the pace slightly but still kept his movements deliberate.  He knew he found </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> spot when Steve gasped and cried out.  Bucky focused on hitting that spot again and again, and pretty soon, Steve was a complete mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky, please,” he begged.  “I’m so close!”  He reached for Bucky to bring him down into a semblance of a kiss.  Both had mouths open, just pressed against each other, breathing heavily.  Bucky finally moved faster and thrust harder into Steve, getting close himself.  Steve’s breath hitched and his muscles went taut under Bucky, and soon Bucky could feel Steve’s release between them.  The clench of Steve’s hole around his cock had Bucky seeing stars.  A few more erratic thrusts, and...there!  Bucky felt his climax fill Steve up.  His body gave a few more involuntary shallow thrusts, and then careful not to fall on Steve, Bucky pulled out and lay on his side.  They both just lay there, catching their breaths.  Bucky snuggled Steve into his side, threw a leg over the slim hips, and kissed the blonde head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Bucky.  Thank you for distracting me,” Steve murmured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Stevie.  I love you, too.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>The following day, Steve received a telegram relaying his mother’s passing.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!  I think this series will have about 7 parts or so, so please stick with me!  Your kudos and comments make my day.  And please let me know what improvements could be made, or if something wasn't clear.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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